Some of you know my secret: I have been spending some of my free time hanging out with fellow clergy and protesters at Zuccotti Park as part of the Occupy Wall Street movement. I am part of the 99%.
This week, I was part of a group of faith leaders called Occupy Faith NYC that marched to the occupiers’ new temporary encampment on Canal Street after they were forcibly removed from Zuccotti in a clandestine midnight raid that no media were allowed to cover. When we arrived there, expecting to see grumpy and disheveled people, we were greeted with cheers. The crowds parted for us and we were ushered to the center of the crowd, where one of our leaders gave a moving speech and said a prayer. All of his words were echoed by the “human microphone” of people repeating what the original speaker had said, amplifying it.
The human microphone system has an amazing power for building community and hearing out differences. Each listener takes the responsibility not just of hearing what another says, but repeating it, word for word. You are forced to take in the meaning of their words. Then, if you disagree, you, too, can call for a “mic check,” and have your words taken in by others. It is a profound experience of letting ourselves be changed and influenced by one another, and giving each other the space to truly be heard.
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| An Occupier convincing people to charge the fence because "it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission." I did not agree, nor did many of my clergy friends, but we stayed on the public side of the wall as witnesses. |
After a lot of discussion, the scene became more troubled; part of crowd decided to trespass onto property owned by Trinity Wall Street Episcopal Church. Our faith leaders had been in negotiation to get permission to occupy that space, but the occupiers went in before permission was granted (and it never was granted). We clergy stayed outside, but acted as moral witnesses, and then later human shields separating crowds of people from police in riot gear. Eventually the occupiers inside the church’s grounds were raided, and we witnessed some violent attacks by the police.
So much, so fast. So many ethical quandaries in just a few hours. I know that some of you think that the church should stay out of politics entirely, and some of you might feel alienated by calls to support the 99%, seemingly demonizing the richest 1%. I assure you that I struggle with these things, too. But at my first march with OWS in early October, a friend of mine helped me make a sign. The sign said, “On Earth As It Is In Heaven.” At that moment, I was convicted. I was reminded yet again how much of our faith is based on the belief that God celebrates all of God’s children equally. Our faith encourages us to share, to care for the least, to bless the poor, to offer jubilee (relief from debt) regularly. The Lord’s prayer, which we say weekly with our children because it is so fundamental, asks God to help us forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors, to deliver us from evil, to enact God’s will on earth, not just in heaven.
Our faith has everything to do with money and power. It challenges us often in ways we might prefer not to be challenged. It threatens to occupy parts of ourselves that we might rather remained compartmentalized, sterile, and free from influence. Our faith is messy, and calls us into sometimes frightening territory.
But what is the reward? When we delve into these uncomfortable places and allow ourselves to be thrown off kilter, something awakens within us. Deeper love, stronger compassion, greater strength. We are moved. We become occupied by faith.
Whether you find the OWS movement a convicting one or not (and it certainly has some drawbacks), I wonder if you might find within it a lesson on the power of letting ourselves act out our faith, the power of challenging the status quo, even when the status quo seems so fully entrenched. The OWS movement is shifting the dialogue in this country. So, too, can we, if we allow ourselves to be occupied by God’s Holy Spirit. Amen.
